To the Bone
by subject2reality
Summary: Something new for me. Taken from the season three episode 'Sin City' this is a scene between Dean and Casey where they are trapped together and Dean considers giving into his desires. Rated M for adult themes. R&R please :


**TO THE BONE,**

The dank basement was cold, its air petrified like silica impregnated wood. The oxygen tasted recycled and the atmosphere was infused with an aroma of musky sweat and laboured breaths. The crumbling walls felt like they were closing in, being drawn towards Dean Winchester by his own increasing anxiety.

This was some situation he had gotten himself into here.

In contrast to the overall persona of the crypt like basement, lying trapped just a few feet away from where Dean sat was Casey sprawled out lying on her front. Her legs were bent at the knees so her feet hung lazily above like the swaying tail of a wildcat. She was biting her talon like nails with a mist of distraction in her eyes and for now seemed to be done with the to and fro sniping they had been indulging in.

Good, Dean thought, he had nothing to say to this impure beast. Yet at the same time he wasn't able to pull his eyes away from her. The vessel she had chosen for herself was certainly...attractive.

Dean looked over to the only exit from the basement, a mass of rubble preventing him from leaving this demon behind, trapped as she was by the devil's trap he had set for her to walk into. Neither of them was going anywhere now, trapped by their own limitations with only each other for company. The hate between them was palpable but there was something else there too. There was something muggy and primal, a heat that Dean was desperate to ignore.

Dean smiled, the plan had been simple. After discovering what Casey had done to his old friend Richie, he had paid a visit to this dank place and set everything up, taking time to inscribe the devil's trap and mask it from sight. He had then returned to the bar where Casey worked and used his tried and tested charm to score himself an official invite back. Following Casey down here he had sprung his trap but he had underestimated her power. During the exorcism, she had caused the ceiling to collapse and from there they had arrived here.

Stuck, together and alone they sat; two enemies waiting for their companions to rescue them. Dean felt sure Sam would be able to figure out his whereabouts. He had to otherwise he was a dead man. But of course Sam would find him; he was a learned man, which was his staple in life. Dean always got into stupid situations and Sam was always the one to figure a way out. Tonight would be no different.

Casey let out a soft and mellifluous groan as she arched her head back and lulled her eyes shut. Dean was wrenched from his thoughts and his eyes were all over her body. They glided from the arch of her angular neck, along her shapely torso to the curve of her thighs. He swallowed hard and inside his head a voice spoke to him. _"You're going to hell Dean; don't you want to know what it's like to sleep with a Demon before you're fucked by one?"_

Dean shook himself clear and convinced himself he was in the throws of cabin fever. There was no other explanation for the madness brimming inside his head. Still, the heat had been unleashed and now it was networking through his body. His veins were on fire, the hairs on his skin were alive with static energy. A lump was forming in his throat catching on every hard swallow he made.

Casey rolled onto her back, her clothes scraping against the velvet carpet she lay upon. Dean watched her as she swept her arms above her head and stretched her body with a sighing breath. Her chest tightened together, forced upwards by the inward draw of her stomach. Dean couldn't help but stare, he was only human.

Casey caught his stare and a flirtatious giggle escaped her luscious lips. She smiled seductively. "Why Dean," she said breathlessly, "if I didn't know better I'd say that was lust in your eyes. That would be one way to pass the time but I don't think you would respect me in the morning."

In that moment, Dean's thoughts froze and he saw two routes ahead of him. Both of them tailed off into distant unknowns. He indulged himself in the first.

The heat had risen to the point that it could no longer be ignored. Casey had rolled onto her side, her head propped up on one arm and a look of intrigue worn upon her sculpted face. Her eyes were deep pools of mystery, her lips full and enticing and Dean couldn't help but think, _to hell with it._

They stared at each other, Dean had a witty line all ready but it stuck in his throat. Casey slowly rose to her feet and Dean felt compelled to follow suit. Still they gazed at each other little realising the magnetism between them was pulling their bodies ever closer. One step, two steps closer and they met at the edge of the devil's trap. They were close enough for Dean to get a heady dose of her perfume, a mouth watering infusion of lavender and orange. He could feel the warmth of her breaths; saw the heaving of her chest contained within her figure hugging vest.

This was it, biology at work without the consent of reason or logic.

Dean stared hard. He spoke in a lowered growl. "This doesn't mean that I like you."

Casey's voice was submerged in shallow breaths. "Just get on with it..."

Dean pulled the heel of his boot across the chalk of the trap causing it to spark. The seal was broken and Casey flew into his body, forcing him backwards and against the wall. Dean grunted and Casey's mouth went to his, wide and passionate. Her saliva smeared around his mouth, her tongue muscled in on his own and he returned the favour.

Her hands ran frenetically up and down his chest, catching on his t-shirt and hoisting it up. Her groin ground against his and a whimper escaped her lips as she felt him against her. Dean brought his hands to her waist, felt the fluid ripples running through her body. Slowly but purposefully he pulled his hands up to her oceanic black hair, balling it between his fingers as he tugged it upwards. There was another moan that echoed inside his mouth.

This was all kinds of wrong but that was the drive, the catalyst for what was happening now. Passion had snaked its way into the two of them. The heady haze of lust had gripped them and their bodies hungered for each other. It didn't matter that they were enemies or that eventually they would have to try to kill each other all that mattered was the here and now. The craving to have, to penetrate, to fuck the pain away was the only thing that had any bearing right now.

Casey had pulled downwards, the wet tip of her tongue tracing slithery trails around the defined shape of Dean's abdomen. And the desire built upon itself and Dean no longer had to think of going to hell. An action is a distraction and a man could forget about anything, gets lost in the warm touch of a woman. He didn't have to think of anything other than the warmth of Casey. He became the sensations, free from worry and pain and doubt; all that human bullshit.

Casey wrenched his jacket off and pulled back to bring her arms up toward the sky. Dean watched her, saw the wicked glint in her eyes and proceeded to tug her top up and over her head. It fell to the ground and Casey pulled Dean into her chest. Her flesh was soft like silk sheets, her skin smelt like vanilla and her hands were running through his hair. His hands came up and cupped her breasts, kneaded them passionately as his tongue worked over her body.

Casey moaned, the sound strained and sieved through pure pleasure. The heat rose and rose to a crescendo of debauched desires. This was a symphony of lust to drown out the inevitable confrontation because in this moment there was a common recognition that they wanted each other, needed each other for their own reasons.

Dean drew his tongue upwards, following the curve of her neck to her ear lobe. Casey bucked against him. He ceased, breathless he looked into her eyes and she looked back. A tender smile painted itself on her lips and she slowly looked downwards. Dean followed her gaze, smiled himself and dropped to his knees...

...And then he was back.

Dean looked over at Casey, still trapped and clothed, sprawled on the carpet. He reached for that witty line and spoke nervously with the secret knowledge of what he had just been thinking about. "That's okay; I mean hey, I barely respect you now."

They both laughed, the moment gone.


End file.
